Stepping Stones
by Amethyst Bubble
Summary: Because big things start with little steps. Because he knew, Soubi knew, and the woman crying downstairs knew. [SoubiRitsuka]


Author's Notes: Cheesy as it sounds, I gonna go ahead and say it: First (posted) Loveless fic! Whoo! Alright, I admit, my posting in general has been, uh, not very according to schedule lately. And when I say lately, I use the term loosely. But I'm determined to get back on the writing track! Starting with this piece, which I'm rather proud of. (Am I the only one who thinks there needs to be more fanfiction with Misaki Aoyagi?) Gaaah, but now I'm going to post this and worry about everyone's personalities…!

Disclaimer: I don't own Loveless. Which is probably a good thing, because I'd muck it up somehow. As it is, I only write these twisted little pieces to show my adoration.

---

**Stepping Stones**

By Amethyst Bubble

---

"Bye, Soubi!" Soubi raises a hand and waves as he walks away, returning the sentiment in his own way.

All the happiness inside fades away the second Ritsuka steps inside and sees her standing there. She was waiting for him, he realizes, and the beginnings of fear grasp his heart like icy tentacles.

"Mom..."

Then she smiles, and he doesn't know whether to smile back or run away. "Did you have a good day at school?" Her voice sounds hoarse, like she's been screaming or crying. He notices the broken mirror in the hall. Seven years bad luck.

"Y-yeah," he has to answer, because "Ritsuka" would always answer- he's sure of that. He tries to look happy, because he knows that "Ritsuka" would have looked happy. "We learned a lot today and I had fun with my friends..." He makes sure to mention his friends, because he knows that "Ritsuka" was the complete opposite of him, a social child to be sure.

And even though he _isn't _that boy, the one from the past, he pretends to be. Just like acting, he tells himself, and maybe this is a role he was born to play. Maybe to avoid conflict. Maybe just to make her happy.

Something brightens within her at the words "friends" and he knows he's said the right thing- of course, because "Ritsuka" was always such a social child, wasn't he? Not like him, content to only have Soubi if need be. (Of course, he'd rather have Yuiko and Yayoi, too- they a_re _his friends-, but they're not Soubi. Soubi loves him, so Soubi is most important. Seimei used to be most important, still is very important, but Seimei is gone now.) She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't need to. He sees the hope in her eyes, the hope that maybe "Ritsuka" has finally, finally returned and that imposter in her son's image is gone.

Even though he's used to it, it still hurts.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Ritsuka would like to be able to resent her. He'd like to be able to hate her- just a little bit. After all, she doesn't view him as her real son, so why should he view her as his mother? But he can't. She's his mother and he can't hate her. He wonders if it would be better if he could.

Aoyagi Misaki spots the corner of a photograph poking out of the bag casually swung over his shoulder. "What's that?" she asks with something he'd like to call maternal curiosity.

He opens his mouth to say "nothing", but she's already plucked the pictures out of his bag, her arm reaching half way around him in order to do so. A numb feeling overtakes him. It's the closest thing to a hug she's given him in ages. He doesn't count the ones where she's screaming and crying for "Ritsuka" to come back, because those _hurt_ and hugs aren't supposed to be like that. (Soubi's hugs don't hurt- Soubi's hugs make him feel warm inside. He's knows that there's a difference between Soubi's hugs and the maternal ones that his mother might've given him if things were different, but the principle of the matter is still there.)

When he turns his attention back to the pictures in her hand, he notices that she's also pulled out a flyer from his school. He knows he'll find that in the trash later on, wrinkled up, maybe torn to shreds. Just like always.

"Are these your friends?" she poses the question innocently enough, staring at him as she holds up a photograph. The one of Yayoi and Yuiko and him, standing together on the school grounds. Yuiko's smiling ear to ear, gripping his arm with one hand and flashing a peace sign with the other. Yayoi, on his other side, is smiling politely.

"Yes," he answers slowly and carefully.

"She's cute, the girl... What's her name?" There's something in her voice, an almost manic sort of hopefulness. It makes him cringe.

"Hawatari. Hawatari Yuiko." he notices that she hasn't called _him _by his name yet, but he's not exactly surprised. That name belongs to "Ritsuka", not him.

Sometimes, he really is jealous of "Ritsuka". Even if there isn't anything to be jealous of anymore.

Suddenly, he really wants Soubi to be standing beside him. Just to feel his presence, that's all. Soubi, besides him.

Misaki nods, pursing her lips together as she looks at the next photograph. "And this man?" she holds up a picture of him and Soubi. He can't help but flush slightly and he hopes she doesn't notice. At least this in this one they're only standing side by side, Soubi gazing down at him with something in his expression that Ritsuka knows is love. He hopes his mother doesn't recognize it.

He starts thinking of things to tell her- that's Agatsuma Soubi, a teacher at his school; that Agatsuma Soubi, a brother of a friend; that's Agatsuma Soubi and _he loves me_!

Fortunately or unfortunately, she doesn't wait for his answer. "Ritsuka?" she asks, almost timidly, as if some fragile illusion might shatter if she speaks this one word, this name, _his _name.

He knows who his mother means.

He shakes his head slowly from side to side, "It's me, mom."

And he smiles as he says it.

And she screams.

---

It's dark in his room. Quiet. From downstairs, he can hear the faint sounds of sobbing. He tries to block it out.

She smashed another vase- a nice one, this time. He examines the new gash on the back of his hand with slight disinterest as he does his best at wrapping it. It was easier when Seimei did this for him.

There's a knock at the window. He doesn't even look up; he knows who it is, after all. "The window is not a door, dammit."

Soubi just smiles that infuriating smile, stepping inside without a word. Then he spots Ritsuka's hand and the bloody bandage sloppily wrapped around it. He blinks, looking more puzzled then concerned, but Ritsuka isn't fooled. Soubi knows _exactly _what happened, though neither of them will ever admit to his knowledge. The knowledge of events that Soubi shouldn't know anything about.

Before Ritsuka knows it, Soubi is kneeling before him, looking up at him with _that _smile still in place. "Did something happen, Ritsuka?" Ritsuka knows what will happen next- he'll say something vague, like that he tripped or that an animal scratched him, and Soubi will just nod and smile. Just like always.

He's tired of that pattern.

He hangs his head until his bangs overshadow his eyes. "Soubi," he says and stops there because there just _isn't _anything else to say. He knows. Soubi knows. The woman crying downstairs knows. There is nothing left to say.

And Soubi is quiet, staring down at Ritsuka's hands, the stark contrast of the red stained bandage against the dark-haired boy's pale skin, cradled in his larger ones. He's still smiling, but it's a little sadder now.

"I love you, Ritsuka."

His throat feels tight and constricted; choked. There's a prickling at the corner of his eyes and his face feels hot, but he isn't going to cry. He refuses to. He's stronger then that. He just nods, leaning a little closer to Soubi's comforting warmth. An arm wraps around his skinny shoulders, pulling him forward, against Soubi. He doesn't protest or pull back, just allows the older man to hold him. (Because when Soubi calls him by his name, he means _him _and not the person he was or might've been before he lost his memories. Soubi loves him and not "Ritsuka" and that makes all the difference in the world.)

The stairs creak and his back stiffens. Soubi's arm tightens around him- it's a miniscule difference, but Ritsuka feels it. And Ritsuka shouldn't be grateful-- this is his mother, not another battle; he doesn't, shouldn't need Soubi's protection here-- but he is. Ritsuka hides his face in Soubi's shoulder and just _waits._

It doesn't take long. There's a knock on his door.

"Ritsuka?" her voice, muffled by the door between them, sounds a little raw, a little over-excited and a little panicked all at the same time. "Ritsuka, dinner's ready. I made all your favorites, Ritsuka!"

He shudders. Now she uses his name. Now that her hope, hope that maybe it's "him", have returned. Lifting his head a little, he meets Soubi's eyes and sees the question that Soubi doesn't speak. _What shall I do with her?_

Ritsuka narrows his eyes a bit and shakes his head; _you won't do anything. Like I told you the first night you broke in here-- that's mom. My mom. Seimei's mom. Leave her alone._ This isn't a battle for Soubi _and _him, not one for them together as a team. This is his battle and he'll fight it alone. So he pushes against Soubi's shoulders as he stands up, holding a finger to his lips; be quiet and stay where you are. That's an order.

He walks to the door, reaches out as if to open it, but then thinks better of that decision. "Mom," he starts and wonders if he should lie and say he's going out with some friends. That might appease her some, might sound like something "Ritsuka" would do.

But he's not "Ritsuka". He's not going to try to act or sound or think like him. "I'm not hungry," he says. "I think I'm just going to do my homework and go to bed."

"What...?" Misaki replies, as if she _absolutely cannot believe _that he just said that. "Ritsuka! Ritsuka!"

She pounds on the door and calls him for a good ten or fifteen minutes. Maybe more. Ritsuka doesn't count. He just stands there, focusing on the pain in his hand and trying to drown out her cries. He can feel Soubi's eyes fixed on his back, never looking away from him, and it gives him strength.

Finally, she goes away. She doesn't say anything, doesn't ask him one more time to come downstairs and eat. She simply walks away, her footsteps sounding on the stairs as she disappears down the steps.

Ritsuka stands still for a moment, perfectly still. Then he turns around and faces Soubi, a wavering smile on his face. "Soubi," he murmurs and leaves it at that. Right now, he can think of so many things to say. He opts not to speak any of them aloud.

Soubi looks back at him, his own smile firm and confident. He stands up and extends a hand. "I'm proud of you," he says. "Ritsuka."

Ritsuka places his hand in Soubi's, feeling much warmer all of a sudden. "Shut up," he mumbles, looking away, face impassive. Like it was nothing, even though it definitely was _some_thing.

"Let's get something to eat, shall we?" Soubi suggests, leading him towards the window. "Since it doesn't look like you'll be getting a home cooked meal tonight."

Ritsuka blinks, a little confused by the suddenness of this all, before he smiles again and nods, happy to accept the offer. After all, this is a sort of milestone. They should celebrate and he would really like to get out of the house. Then he stops and tugs Soubi towards his closet, careful not to break the contact between them. Ritsuka's not sure that he could stay on his feet if it weren't for his hand in Soubi's.

He pulls out a pair of shoes quickly, remembering the time Seimei told him to always keep a pair close by, in case he ever had to run for it. He mentally thanks Seimei; that advice turned out to be useful. Then he grabs a jacket and nods towards Soubi. "I'm ready."

Soubi's smile widens a little bit. "I love you," he says, randomly, a spur of the moment type thing. Ritsuka can't help but blush slightly as Soubi pulls him onto the balcony. Suddenly, he locks his gaze with Soubi and grins, the cold night air whipping his bangs into his eyes.

"You know, I've always wanted to know how you get up here..."

---

Le Fin

---

Okay, I'm going to admit, the second part was very, very hard to write. Because, in the first part, I had Misaki, and she was very easy to get into. Then, I had Soubi come in and be… Soubi-ish. He's such a _complicated _character, and that makes him hard to write because sometimes it's hard to predict his actions.

And then there's Ritsuka… who acts different depending on who he's interacting with. So I had this little part where there was Misaki!Ritsuka and Soubi!Ritsuka all at the same time and it was just argh. So much argh.

But I'm happy about how the second piece came out (I'm happy about the whole thing, actually), because I wanted this to be more then just the dynamics between Ritsuka and Misaki. I wanted this to be about Ritsuka confronting his mother, if only just a little bit. Plus, I wanted a happy-ish ending, so there. Reviews are always appreciated! Inflate my ego, please?


End file.
